


The Thousand and Second Time

by celli



Category: Alias
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-07-07
Updated: 2004-07-07
Packaged: 2017-10-07 11:02:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,129
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/64522
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/celli/pseuds/celli
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"We should have sex.  Also, I want ice cream."</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Thousand and Second Time

**Author's Note:**

> Spoilers through 3.10, "Remnants."
> 
> Written at soobunny's request as part of shadesofbrixton's Weiss Ficathon. My apologies to both of you for the delay. Thanks to butterflykiki and Caro for the brainstorming and the betas.
> 
> For Soo, of course. *hugs*

"I can't find the puck." Sydney said, frowning at the screen.

"It's right there." Weiss pointed.

"Where?"

"There."

"Where?"

"You know, the thing they're all _chasing_?" He peered at her. She grinned from her slouch against him. "How much _have_ you had to drink?"

"Um." She squinted at the bottle. "Only a little. See?"

"That's our second bottle."

"Ohhhhh."

Weiss rolled his eyes, propped Sydney up better against his shoulder, and went back to the game.

"Hey, Weiss," she said a few minutes later.

"It's there," he said without looking at her.

"Huh? No. Weiss." She tugged on his sleeve.

Why did people always want to talk during the last period of a game? He grabbed her hand. "What?"

"We should have sex."

He blinked. Then he blinked again. Then he just stared at her. She smiled brightly back.

"Huhwha?" It wasn't the best comeback ever, but then again, she'd just said--

"We should have sex. Also, I want ice cream."

"Okay. Well." Breathe, Weiss, breathe. "I can do the ice cream!" he said brightly and dislodged her to stand up. "I have Neapolitan, so you have three choices."

"Weiss--"

"Or really, more than three choices. Chocolate and strawberry. Vanilla and chocolate."

"Weiss--"

"There's a formula, or an exponent, or something to figure that out. Binomial something maybe? I don't remember statistics that--"

"Weiss!" She'd followed him into the kitchen. Crap. "Forget the ice cream."

"Maybe I want ice cream." He took one look at her leaning wayyyyyy far over in his direction, swallowed, and stuck his head in the freezer.

"Why don't you want to have sex with me?"

"Because you're drunk."

"So, when I sober up, you'll want to have sex with me?"

"No."

"Why won't you want to have sex with me?"

"Because we're friends."

There was a long pause, and Weiss felt guilty for hoping she'd passed out in the sink.

"You don't have sex with your friends?"

Weiss rested his forehead on a bag of frozen peas and screamed.

"What was that?" Sydney asked.

"Nothing."

"So anyway--"

"No, Sydney. No. No. A thousand times no. And the thousand and first time? _Hell_ no!"

"Why?"

"You're only asking me because you're drunk. Aren't you?"

"No." He peeked over at her; she looked very offended for someone who was weaving on her feet. "I asked you because...because..."

He drummed his fingers on the freezer door. "Take your time."

"Because you're my friend."

"And you sleep with all your friends?"

She said something that sounded like "Well--" and then clapped a hand over her mouth.

"Well what?" He blinked at her. "Wait. Did you just say _Will_?"

"Wow, I _am_ drunk!"

"Yeah, I noticed. You slept with Will?"

"Mm-hm."

"And how did that turn out?"

"Oh, fine."

"Uh-huh," Weiss said. When Sydney opened her mouth again, he held up a hand. "But still, no sex."

"But whyyyy?"

"Sometimes no means no, sport." He shoved the ice cream at her and headed back to the couch.

The hockey game was over, of course, so he switched to ESPN and focused on the ticker.

"We could date first, if you want," Sydney said just behind him. Her breath was cold on the back of his neck, and he jumped.

"What? Sit down and stop breathing ice cream breath on me."

She planted herself right next to him. "It'd be fun. A lot like now, but--"

"With sex," he finished for her.

"Exactly! Go to the head of the class." She found that very funny, and Weiss rubbed his temples while he waited for her to stop giggling.

"Don't get me wrong," he said, wondering how many times in the history of mankind that phrase had been abused. "You're adorable, Syd. And funny, and smart, and you have really great legs, and it's possible I had a little too much vodka too, dammit. But you're going to wake up tomorrow and be sorry we had this conversation."

"I won't!"

"And even if you didn't--" He stopped himself, but it was too late.

"Even if I didn't, what?"

"Nothing. Can we talk about this after our hangovers wear off?"

"No."

Weiss did 'Exasperated' to the best of his ability, but Sydney was doing 'Stubborn' to the best of hers. Standoff.

"It's just a bad idea, Sydney."

"Why?"

"What are you, five?"

She glared at him.

"Well, there's the fact that the love of your life _is_ my best friend. Or our status as coworkers and neighbors. Or your dad. You do remember your dad, don't you? The guy who, let's be honest, could have me killed by lifting his little finger. And, not to bring it up again, but the thing where we're both blitzed right now."

Sydney made a "pfffft" noise.

"Some of us more than others."

"All of those are very good reasons." She wrinkled her nose. "Except the Vaughn thing, 'cause, screw him."

Weiss snorted. "I notice you're not disputing your father's homicidal tendencies."

"But you're forgetting something."

"I am?"

"We're _spies_!" She threw her hands wide, narrowly missing his end-table lamp. "We live dangerous, reckless lives! We live on the edge!"

"We live in Santa Monica."

"We follow our instincts!"

Weiss refused to be distracted by the way her chest heaved when she was being all passionate. "What is this, a CIA motivational speech? Follow your own instincts and leave me out of it."

She leaned forward, grabbed him by his ears, and kissed him.

Weiss was absolutely, positively certain that he heard his brain making a "glurg" sound as it melted. His hands flailed in midair for a moment before he clenched them into fists and stuck them behind his back. However, he was so busy controlling his hands, he forgot to check in with his tongue, which had decided to check Sydney's teeth for fillings.

She let go and leaned back. "Tell me that wasn't great."

Great? His toes were numb. But Weiss knew an opportunity when he saw it. He said nothing.

Her face fell. "It wasn't?"

Oh, he was such a sap. "Sure, maybe. But Syd," he said when she beamed at him, "it doesn't change anything. Tomorrow this is still going to be the world's worst idea."

She kissed him again, and this time he let himself put one hand on the back of her head. "No, it won't," she said when she was done re-liquefying his brain. "You'll see."

She grabbed her keys and bounced--okay, weaved--out the door. Weiss watched out his living room window until he saw her close her own door behind her. Then he got up and stuck his head in the freezer again.

"I am in _so_ much trouble," he said to the ice cream box.

He knew all three flavors agreed with him.


End file.
